


Our Father

by deadcultkid



Category: Moral Orel
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, CSA, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Rape, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-04 00:12:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12759129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadcultkid/pseuds/deadcultkid
Summary: It's a bad night for Orel.





	Our Father

Tears streamed down Orel’s face as he sat in his room, looking out the window at the pitch black sky. He had just come upstairs from a “talk” in his father’s study, but he knew his punishment wasn’t over. He listened as loud footsteps approached his door. His mother was asleep. His brother was asleep. He was almost convinced that God Himself was asleep to let this happen.  
His bedroom door creaked open and his father walked in, reeking of alcohol. The man barely looked at him as he closed and locked the door and shut off the light. Orel closed his eyes and brought his knees to his chest.  
“Pray.” the only word out of his father’s mouth before he was pushed onto his back. There was a silent moment of reluctance before Clay brought his fist down across Orel’s face. “I said, pray.” 

“Our Father,” it was barely above a whisper “who art in Heaven,” he heard his father’s belt buckle jingle. 

“Hallowed be thy Name,” his mind began to go foggy as the cold air hit his now bare legs. “thy kingdom come, thy will be done,” a sudden, sharp pain filled every part of his body and his ears began to ring. 

“O-On Earth as it is in Heaven.” he wanted his mother to wake up, he wanted someone to help him, but if God wouldn’t, certainly no one else would dare intervene. 

“Give us this day our daily bread,” his father’s harsh panting made his stomach twist in knots and the smell of whiskey didn’t help. “And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

“Trespass against us.” Clay barely mumbled along in unison as he continued to corrupt and ruin the boy. 

“And lead us not...into temptation,” at the last word, Clay’s hand was around Orel’s neck but he didn’t choke him, it was more of a threat. “but deliver us from evil.” he wanted to kick, to scream, to bite, but his body was like his mind; just exhausted. 

“For thine is the Kingdom,” the bed was loudly tapping the wall, his mother should wake up any moment now 

“and the...power,” his father’s grunts were loud, his mother couldn’t be asleep 

“and the Glory,” 

\--  
Bloberta stared at the ceiling, tears running down her bruised face as she heard the rhythmic banging of her son’s bed against the wall. As hate filled her tired, tired heart. As she took a few pills and closed her eyes. "Now I lay me down to sleep."  
\--

“Forever and ever,” there was a moment where Orel felt everything, the cold air, his father’s rough hands on his arms pinning him to the bed, his tears wetting the sheets beneath him, the loneliness as he realized that God wasn’t there. 

“Amen.” there was silence, lonely 3am silence and his father’s breathing. There was the sound of the bed creaking as Clay got up. There was the relieving sound of Orel’s bedroom door closing. There was the sound of his sobs muffled by his pillow.


End file.
